Can We Talk?
by darthsydious
Summary: When Molly tells Sherlock that they need to talk, he fears that she's breaking up with him, but is relieved when she tells him she's pregnant. Prompt fill for potterlockianegalitarian928 on tumblr. established Sherlolly


"Sherlock?"

"Hm?" he murmured, absorbed with his microscope.  
"Sherlock," she repeated.

"Kitchen," he called. A heavy sigh, and he lifted his head. "What is it?" She came to stand in the doorway.

"Can we talk?"

Oh.

He pushed his chair back, looking at her.

 _Nervous_

 _Stressed_

 _Overtired_

Whatever she wanted to talk to him about, she'd been thinking very hard on it, and whatever decision she'd come to had not been easy for her.

 _Oh_.

So this was it. Molly had finally had enough. She was going to break up with him ten months into their relationship. Mind racing, Sherlock thought carefully over anything he might have done to bring her to this decision. He nearly snorted. He could practically hear John across London screaming what hadn't he done to drive Molly away. Sherlock admitted their relationship was a bit unorthodox, but he honestly had been trying very hard to put Molly's needs first, to remember they were a couple now and he wasn't merely a bachelor any longer.

Slowly, he got to his feet, following her into the living room. She sat down on the couch, taking a package from the coffee table. Oh god. She'd even gotten him a break-up gift. Damn. He didn't have anything for her. Was this something couples do? Panicking, he looked around the living room. If she really wanted to break up with him, what was the damned etiquette for a parting gift? Billy the skull? A pickled cat? One last shag?!

"I've been meaning to talk to you," she began, startling him from his thoughts. "I honestly- I know we haven't really talked about this, and it's not what you planned, I know I certainly didn't, I've never done this before, honestly-"

"Molly if it's about my not being home, I can do better!" he blurted out.

"What?" she frowned.

"Or- or the cadavers in the fridge, we can get a second fridge, or I can ask Mrs. Hudson if I can rent out 221c, for a lab. I'll even stop sending Mycroft your baked meringues. If it's to do with our escapades between the sheets and you are unsatisfied, I am more than willing to do additional research or-"

"Sherlock- Sherlock, no, that's not wait what? No, no more research, that's not necessary," she shook her head, and then blinked, realizing all of what he'd said. "You sent my baked meringues to your brother?" Now it was Sherlock's turn to frown.

"That's not what you wanted to talk about?"

"No but now I'd like to," Molly said, confused. "I- Sherlock, what's all this about?" Sherlock looked uncomfortable.

"Aren't…you aren't breaking up with me?" Her eyes grew wide.

"You- oh no, no Sherlock, good heavens, no!" she scooted closer to him. "Far from it,"

"Then that," he nodded to the box on her lap. "That's not a breaking up gift?"

"No," she laughed, her eyes were sparkling. "But it is a gift for you."

"Oh." Relief that Molly was not leaving him left him momentarily frozen in place.

"Would you like to open it?" she asked, nudging him lightly and he looked at the present on his knee.

"Oh, yes, thank you." He paused in untying the ribbon. "Have I missed an anniversary? I thought I'd marked them all."

"No, you haven't," she laughed. Lifting the lid, he removed the felt wrapper and tissue paper to reveal:

"Shoes." He blurted out. "Tiny shoes."

"Yes," she nodded slowly, watching his expression carefully. He blinked, apparently trying to process what tiny shoes meant.

"They have bees on them," was all he managed. She gave a teary laugh.  
"Well it's- we won't know the sex until four or five months along, we've got a month to go until then. I've been trying to find a way to tell you but-" He closed the distance between them, kissing her soundly.

"You're not leaving me and you're pregnant?" he murmured in-between kisses. "A baby, Molly Hooper-" he stopped kissing her, much to her protest. "Mummy won't like that we have not exchanged nuptials."

"Wh-what-"

"Not exactly the way I wanted to propose to you, I admit," he shrugged. "Perhaps we should wait until the baby is born?" Molly burst out laughing. "I expect we can talk about it later," he murmured.

"Oh we will," she nodded. "Including you turning the downstairs flat into a lab. No child of mine is being raised in that toxic waste you call a kitchen."

"Agreed, Madam," and he bent and kissed her again.


End file.
